Chapter 8

Looking around, Adele found herself lying on a couch, in what looked like a study.

“What in the world happened—”

When Adele tried to sit up, Christine pressed a finger firmly against her forehead.

“Stay lying down.”

“Ugh!”

Adele struggled to rise for a moment, then gave up and sank back down.

Something about that seemed to amuse him; the corner of his mouth curled up slightly.

“Enjoying yourself, tormenting me?”

“Hardly. Can’t you see how worried I look?”

Christine leaned his face in close, and Adele turned her head away before she realized she was doing it.

“I can see it. Very clearly. So would you mind backing off a little?”

Since they’d been reunited, Christine seemed to have picked up a habit of suddenly leaning in close.

And Adele, in turn, seemed to have picked up the habit of turning her head away every time.

“Good, looks like you’ve come back to your senses properly.”

He drew back and handed her a glass of water.

“Drink.”

With Christine’s help, Adele sat up and drained the glass in one go. Her throat had already felt parched, as if it were on fire.

“What happened back there?”

At his question, Adele’s brow furrowed without her meaning it to.

Her memory came in broken fragments, but she remembered being dragged into a room against her will by Eaton, whom she’d run into in the hallway.

And she thought she’d put up some kind of resistance, though she couldn’t be sure—

“I’m not really sure myself. I think something was wrong with the drink I had.”

She decided not to mention her suspicion that someone had drugged it. Nothing was certain yet.

“Anyway, thank you for helping me, Chris.”

“I think you’ve got that backwards — it’s that bastard who owes you the thanks, not me.”

“Hm?”

“You looked ready to slit his throat.”

With that, Christine held out a dagger.

Startled, Adele looked back and forth between the dagger and him.

It was hers.

Had I actually drawn a dagger?

“You carry it for self-defense.”

Adele snatched the dagger from him, lifted her skirt, and tucked it back into the garter strapped to her thigh.

Watching her, Christine let out a low whistle.

“Quite the accessory for a wicked woman.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Adele put on a prim expression, but in truth she felt like crying.

She kept turning up in front of him like this, one bad state after another.

She’d wanted to show him she was living well — proudly, triumphantly.

“Give me your right hand.”

“What for?”

Christine pulled her hand toward him as she hesitated.

There was blood between her thumb and forefinger — she’d cut herself, gripping the blade clumsily as she swung it.

“Tch. Swing it around without knowing how to use it properly, and it stops being self-defense and starts being self-harm.”

He took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around her wound.

“Still, having it with me puts my mind at ease.”

Christine’s hands paused mid-knot.

It meant there was enough threatening her that she felt she needed to carry a blade.

“Fair enough. That bastard back there looked plenty scared of it too.”

Once the knot was tied, Adele quickly pulled her hand back.

“Still, if you hadn’t helped, I’d have been in real danger.”

“I didn’t do much. You were waving that dagger around so wildly he was scared stiff — I just used the opening to knock him out from behind. That’s all.”

Christine shrugged, then added, as if just remembering—

“Ah, stripping him and tying him up was a bit of a hassle, though.”

“You stripped him and tied him up?”

“What, too mild?”

Adele shook her head.

“No.”

“Guess I should have at least left him his underwear.”

“Underwear? Pfft!”

The image suddenly came to her, and Adele burst out laughing.

At that, a playful glint crept into Christine’s eyes too.

“With equipment like that, no wonder he—”

“There’s nothing you won’t say in front of a lady!”

“I’m only saying what I saw.”

As the conversation veered somewhere strange, Adele cleared her throat quickly and changed the subject.

“By the way, did you come because Madame Hans invited you too?”

“Hardly.”

“…Then?”

“I’m escorting the Princess.”

The moment the Princess was mentioned, Adele’s heart gave a painful throb.

Now that she thought of it, tonight he wasn’t in uniform but in an elegant formal suit. Of course he’d have dressed with more care than usual — he’d come as the Princess’s escort.

So you really are going to become the Emperor’s imperial consort after all.

“By the way, how did you know I was here?”

“Because I caught your scent.”

“No way. I bathe properly. I wash my hair well, too—”

Even as she said it, Adele brought her nose to her arm, then her underarm, to check.

At the sight, Christine couldn’t help but laugh.

“My nose is just especially sensitive.”

“That’s not sensitive — that’s just a beast’s nose.”

Suddenly, he pulled Adele behind the curtain.

“Wha— what—”

Her eyes went wide with shock—

“Shh!”

He pressed a finger to her lips, then gestured with his eyes toward the next room.

“Looks like they’ve come looking for him.”

The study where the two of them stood was right next door to the room where Viscount Eaton had been left tied up.

A moment later, the murmur of approaching voices grew closer.

Just as Christine had said, it seemed people had come looking for him. But there seemed to be more of them than she’d expected, crowding in. Faintly, she thought she could make out Seira’s voice, and Madame Hans’s too.

Adele grew certain that this whole thing had been Seira’s doing.

Seira’s words from earlier rang in her ears.

“You will absolutely be the one to bring Count Weiss and me together. I’ll make sure of it myself!”

Had Seira had a servant slip something into her drink?

And Mia, knowing nothing of it, had simply been the one to hand it to her.

And if, through sheer bad luck, Eaton had actually done something unspeakable to her, Seira would have used it as leverage to threaten her — to force her into bringing her and Christine together.

If Adele refused to obey, Seira would no doubt spread rumors that Adele had seduced Eaton herself — just as she always had.

Seira!

Adele’s hand, gripping the curtain, trembled.

But this was not the moment to reveal herself — being caught alone with Christine would do her no good at all.

A moment later, screams rang out from beyond the door.

“Aaaahh!”

“What in the world is this!”

It seemed they’d found Eaton bound and stripped bare. Those screams, of course, were not ones of delight.

Meanwhile, Christine threw the window wide open.

“Shall we get going?”

A sharp winter wind blew in, and the curtain fluttered.

Countless stars glittered in the dark, star-swept night sky.

That she could still find the sky beautiful, in a moment like this, was probably — because of Christine.

“Mm.”

He leapt nimbly up onto the windowsill and held out his hand.

“Take it.”

Instead of taking his hand, Adele asked,

“This is the first floor, right?”

“And?”

“I can manage this much on my own.”

Politely declining his hand, Adele planted both hands on the windowsill and climbed up. But the ground sloped away outside, and the drop was higher than it looked.

“Want help, even now?”

“I’m fine!”

“Don’t come crying to me if you twist your ankle.”

“You watch yourself!”

Gathering her skirts in her fists, Adele hopped lightly down. Then, as if to prove a point, she turned back to Christine and grinned.

Her black hair streamed and rustled in the winter wind.

She looked just like that girl from ten years ago.

Now that he thought of it, Adele used to run around quite well with the boys, back then.

That beautiful girl with forest-green eyes shining, who used to dash fearlessly over mountains and across rivers…

---

Once outside, the two of them strolled by the fountain in the garden.

The water had frozen over for winter, but lanterns burned brightly here and there, lending the scene a quiet charm.

The only flaw was the cold — until Christine took off his jacket and draped it over Adele’s shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

His jacket was bigger and heavier than she’d expected. But it was warm from his own body heat, warm enough to be a comfort.

“Oh, right — I’m going to be supplying desserts to the imperial palace.”

Adele was the one to bring it up first.

“That’s wonderful.”

“You didn’t… put in a word for me, did you?”

Adele asked hesitantly, and Christine answered firmly.

“Neither the Emperor nor I have time to spare mentioning something like that.”

“Good, then.”

Adele smiled, pleased. It meant her own skill had truly won over the Emperor’s palate.

“Still, I’m sure my glowing review played a big part in swaying the Emperor’s heart. He trusts me completely, after all.”

“Oh, please. It was my desserts that moved His Majesty’s palate.”

“Should I tell him it was dreadful this time, then?”

“Chris!”

Adele startled at the sound of her own raised voice. Being with him like this, she found herself acting unguarded, just like she used to.

It happened naturally, every time she was with him.

It felt as though the past ten years had simply evaporated, and she was that girl again.

“So you admit my help was a big deal, then?”

“Not a big deal. A little.”

“Just a little?”

“More than a little, maybe… a little a lot?”

“Anyway, you admit you were helped?”

“I admit it.”

“So what should you do, when you’ve been helped?”

Adele eyed Christine warily, a bad feeling creeping over her.

“…Say thank you?”

“I heard nobles don’t just say thanks empty-handed.”

“Wow, becoming a noble really corrupted you. And here I thought you were rich. Guess it’s true — the ones who have the most are the worst.”

Adele looked utterly exasperated, but Christine didn’t give an inch.

“You’re the one trying to get away with just words. Put in some effort to show sincerity. Effort.”

“So what do you want, then?”

“Apple pie.”

At that, Adele’s face went still.

Christine murmured too, his face sinking into something wistful.

“The apple pie your mother used to make was really something. I still think about it sometimes.”

At the mention of her mother, Adele’s expression darkened, as if she might cry.

“I know. If I’d known, I would have learned more of her recipes.”

If only she’d known they would be parted so suddenly.

“It doesn’t have to taste the same. I just want to eat a pie you made, regardless.”

“Alright, I’ll make one and send it over. Just tell me where to send it.”

Christine shook his head.

“Invite me.”

“That’s…”

As Adele’s words trailed away, his eyes narrowed.

“Worried about strange rumors, in a small town like this?”

“No, it’s more that — if the Princess were to misunderstand…”

“What does the Princess have to do with it?”

“What?”

“You’re the one who’s been telling everyone in town that I’m practically your little brother.”

So that rumor had reached Christine’s ears after all.

“Well… it’s not wrong, is it.”

Then why did her voice keep trailing off like that?

“So there’s nothing strange about me coming and going from your house. Practically your older sister, after all.”

“Chris.”

The corner of Christine’s mouth lifted, cold. That alone was enough to turn his whole expression chilly.

“Why don’t you just say it plainly? That you don’t want your man to get the wrong idea.”

My man?

She’d forgotten, hadn’t she —

that a rumor of her remarrying had been spreading too.

“You know what? The more you push me away, the more I want to be cruel about it.”

His deep blue-gray eyes, glinting in the moonlight, looked menacing.

The Christine who’d felt, just a moment ago, like that boy from ten years past, now seemed a stranger to her — frightening, even.

He still hasn’t forgiven me after all, has he?

“So don’t provoke me any further, Adele.”

His voice rang out chilling, like a warning.

And then Christine turned and walked away.

Shivering in the sharp winter wind, Adele wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn’t understand why his jacket, so warm a moment ago, now felt so uncomfortable.